Guns For Hands
by SublimeEchos
Summary: Yes the New York Mafia still exists, I knew that much. What I didn't expect was to find my history professor at the inner workings of it all. I wasn't supposed to see what I did, now I'm paying for it. The story of how I wound up in the mafia, with a lot more to worry about than just the life of crime. [Hetalia mafia AU] (2p!s included)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One, New York...New York.**

There was always some speculation in my mind over whether moving to the big apple was a good idea. There was no way I was going to be able to afford an apartment even relatively close to anything I could brag about like central park, or Times Square. I basically was never going to be that girl in the movies who moved into the cute little studio on her own to begin a new journey amidst the city lights.

No, that just wasn't in my budget. I was the girl who lived above the run-down pizzeria miles away from anything spectacular, with a landlord who hardly spoke English and a neighbor who always seemed to be on something a lot stronger than your average pot, though I was never quite sure what it could've been. He was pretty dazed most of the time though, so developing a life-long friendship with him just didn't seem like it would work out all that well.

It also didn't help I couldn't leave my little studio without being cat-called, even pulled at. One guy even had the nerve to burn my arm with his cigarette one particular night, and only god knows how much I wanted to take that rolled up cig and shove it up you know where. Maybe it'd teach him a lesson or two about messing with women who obviously aren't interested.

So at the age of only twenty I had faced more men's advances than I could count, and my neighbor was living in an altered reality where I'm pretty sure he didn't even know I existed. He also managed to mix up our mail every day, leading me to believe he couldn't even remember his own name.

But hey, at least my apartment always smelled like fresh pizza…right? I mean, I couldn't even wash the smell out of my hair most days.

That was my only plus, except on nights like tonight when the shop was obviously closed, yet voices still drifted up through the vents. Thick Italian voices too, which I didn't mind at first, until it started keeping me awake at night.

Weeks, it had been weeks since the last time I had slept through the night and I was becoming fed up. I tossed and turned in my bed, allowing my eyelids to drift shut only for them to snap open again at the raised voices.

 _"Damn these Italians."_ I muttered getting up from my bed, there was no way I was going back to bed now.

With agitation rising in my chest I let my feet guide the way to my front door where my hand hovered over the handle hesitantly. Was I really going to confront them? A bunch of Italian men in the pizza shop just the floor below? I mean, what the hell were they even doing down there?

Taking my hand off the door knob I backed away a bit, leaning against the wall. I was exhausted, letting my eyes fall shut once more to try and gain maybe five seconds of peace.

That of course was only until the yelling began again, and I found myself wide awake once more, brows furrowed already on my way out the door, down the stairs and into the back door that lead into the kitchen.

I only paused my fury filled hunt when I realized I was getting closer to the voices. It was an odd setting, seeing the shop like this at night. Only one stray light was on out in the dining hall setting an eerie feeling over the place and I felt a chill run down my spine.

Slowly I made my way through the kitchen to the swinging doors to try and peer out at the source of my sleepless nights…only to find five men gathered around a table, smoking cigars and apparently playing cards. Their voices were hushed now except for the occasional outburst in their native tongue. I was too focused on their voices and body language to notice the outline of a revolver tucked away behind the man's dress shirt until I had already been standing there a good three minutes.

A sudden realization washed over me, and I knew I shouldn't be here. This looked like a scene from every mafia movie my father ever made me sit through, it was a silly thought but there was a certain truth that came with it.

Feeling my accelerated heart rate I turned to sneak back up to my apartment, maybe find a different way to drown them out. That was before a figure came looming through the back door from the alleyway, lighting a cigarette on his way in.

He was a burly thing, with muscles that made him look like a perfectly sculpted statue. The only thing is he didn't look like he really belonged in the group lingering in the dining all. He was pale, his hair surprisingly light under the little cap he wore, and I could faintly make out a small scar that ran along his cheek.

If I was afraid of the men in the hall, this man was the epitome of a nightmare. He looked like he could snap me in half, seriously, but the funny thing is in all my fear I couldn't bring myself to move from in front of the swinging doors.

I watched him walk closer, and then the fated moment came. I prepared for imminent death.

His eyes met mine with a confused gaze.

"Who the hell are you?" He grunted, his German accent thick as he took a drag from his cigarette as if the situation didn't really phase him.

I don't know where my sudden confidence came from but I wasn't at all grateful for it. "I should be asking you the same thing." I hissed back, trying to keep my voice as quiet as possible.  
I watched as something akin to amusement flashed in his eyes. Suddenly he started walking towards me and I couldn't read what he was thinking. All my body told me to do was back the hell up, and back the hell up I did…right into the dining hall.

A smirk flared on his face as he watched me realize my mistake.

"Let's go talk to the boss." He whispered, smirk still evident on his face as he stood over me, taking my arm none to lightly in his grip.

"Hey Lutz, I thought you said you were takin' a leak! Not going out to grab you a city rat!" One man laughed as he watched us draw near, gaining the attention of the others.

"She was in the kitchen." He shot back, with a glare that sent chills down my spine as the room grew silent.

"Well, looks like we've got ourselves a little stow-away boys." A different man said, standing from the table, his back had been turned to be the entire time but something about his voice struck me as familiar.

"This is nothing personal, I just need to know what you heard." His voice was gentler now but I caught the warning in it.

Reaching behind his back to his waistline he pulled the revolver I had seen before, turning fully now to point it at me as he prepared to fire. His hand steady and firm on the gun like he had done this before...many times.

Time seemed to slow down as he trained the gun on me, and our eyes met for the first time.

" _Professor Vargas_!?"

" _Rey_!?"

* * *

 _Hey guys! So this story I originally published on my quotev account which is under the same username as this account. I originally wrote it to be a reader insert since Quotev is really popular with those, but I changed the format a touch for fanfiction and created a new OC to fit the story better for this site. Her name is Reyes, but will be constantly referred to throughout the story as Rey._

 _Let me know what you think! Also Professor Vargas is Rome, and along with Lutz some other 2ps will appear in this story along with the original nations. I've decided to throw them all in together for fun, what could go wrong?!_

 _Leave a review, and (hopefully) see you next chapter! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two. Teaching's just a side job.**

College was the reason I moved to the city, and shortly after classes began in the fall I realized it was going to be the biggest stressor of my life. That was until my history professor gunned me down in the empty pizzeria below my apartment.

Riding the subway to campus the next morning had my stomach churning. My history professor…gunned me down…mafia…revolver…Mr. Vargas…shit. It was all my mind seemed to be able to concentrate on.

 _"Rey!?"_ I could still hear the shock in his voice when he realized it was me, and I'm sure as hell he saw the confusion and shock on my face as well when I realized my favorite teacher had intent to kill.

 _"Shit Rey! What the hell are you doing here!"_ He cried, quickly disarming himself and going to grab for my shoulders, only for me to flinch away at his touch.

 _"I live here!"_ I managed but I could tell I was shaking.

 _"You live here?"_

All I could do was nod my head, still a little confused and terrified as to why my history professor had just pointed a gun at my head.

More cursing in what I assumed was his native tongue. The men around him seemed a little stunned, and were giving both of us wary glances. _"Mr. Vargas, what the hell is going on."_ I whispered, fear evident in my voice and I could tell he was struggling to figure out a solution to the mess he had just made for himself.

 _"Are you in the mafia?"_ I whispered again, almost hissing. The older man just looked at me as if his biggest fear had been realized. Gripping my shoulder tightly he looked deep into my eyes.

 _"Did you hear anything?"_ he asked, his voice sharp.  
 _"Wha-"  
"I said, did you hear anything?"_

 _"No…no. I didn't."_ I said back, my voice wavering. He could tell I must have been pretty shook up because his eyes softened.

He let go of my shoulders with a sigh.

 _"Boss, you gonna just let 'er go?"_ One man asked from behind.

 _"What would you suggest I do."_ He spat back firmly, keeping his eyes locked on mine the entire time. _"Go to bed kid, and don't speak a word about this."_

I stepped onto campus with the words still fresh in my mind. I was afraid, afraid of my own God damned professor. It was a good thing History was the last class today for me, but I still wasn't sure if I would be able to face the man.

I trudged through the foyer out of the math building and onto the sidewalk that would lead me to the history building where I was sure Professor Vargas was growing just as anxious as I was.

Pulling open the doors I easily found my way to the lecture hall from routine and sat myself down in the very back, as far away from the podium as possible, preparing myself for whatever was to come out of this seemingly innocent man's mouth today.  
One hour later I was getting ready to pack up my things for the day and head home. Vargas had a student give the lesson today which wasn't unusual for this class, but as I filed out of the room with the other kids I couldn't help but let my mind jump to the conclusion that he hadn't shown because of me.

I was content with that thought though, the longer I could go without seeing his face, the better off I would be. _Just forget that night ever happened_ , I told myself trying to force a smile as I passed by classmates until I reached the platform of the subway that would take me home.

Turning the key in the lock the door swung open without much force, I was sure if someone tried to break in it wouldn't be that hard for them. I really needed to talk to my landlord about the safety of this place. Not even thinking of the night before my mind coincidentally went to my little run-in in the shop.

"I'm not going to make it out of this city alive." I mumbled to myself throwing my keys and bag on my kitchen counter, making my way to the fridge. That was until something out of place caught my eye. Backing up I looked down at the lone plate on the counter with a half eaten turkey sub on it, the sub I had made for my dinner this morning.

"What the hell?" I muttered, taking the plate in my hand about to dump it in the trash. If I left it out all day it couldn't be very good now. I swore I put it in the fridge though…

"Hey! I wasn't finished with that!" a man's voice called from the living room, and I did the only humanly thing anyone would do in this situation.

I dropped the sub, and screamed, louder than I knew I could at the shadowed figure in my living room who was now to his feet running towards me waving his arms like a maniac.

"Stop! Jesus frau!" He tried yelling over my panicked breathing as he backed me into the corner of my kitchen. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

"W-who are you?" I hissed, clinging to the countertops until my knuckles were white.

The guy in front of me looked familiar, and I recognized him the moment the German accent registered in my ears. It was the blonde nightmare from the other night. He looked down at my cowering form with an amused smirk on his face.

"I guess we haven't formally met yet, my name is Lutz." He said with a small most likely forced smile. "You are Reyes Fortier? Correct?"

"…yes." I managed, standing a little straighter.

"My boss wants to speak with you…about the little mishap the other night." A small grin flashed across his face as he eyed me, it was obvious he had a thing for watching people crumble under his stare.  
"Your boss?"

"Would you prefer I call him professor Varags?" He mocked.

"What exactly does my professor do as a side job…?" I questioned my eyes narrowing. "He had a gun, he was intent on killing me."

"Let's just say teaching is his side job." Lutz smirked. "Now let's go, he's waiting."

"I'm not going anywhere!" I said, standing my ground. "What the hell is going on? Who even are you?"

"If you really want to know the answer to that question I think it would be best you follow me." He didn't even give me an option, instead started to leave the room expecting me to follow, which I did but mostly out of curiosity. This man was a mystery to me, what was he doing working for my professor...

Nothing was said after that, but I kept an eye on the blonde as he led me down the stairs and out to a car parked near the curb. I hadn't even asked him how he had managed to get inside my apartment; I probably didn't want to know.

"Lovino." Lutz said, nodding his head at the person in the driver's seat as I slid in next to the brute.

"Lutz." He mumbled back, pulling the car from the curb and off into the streets. He didn't even make an attempt to acknowledge my presence but I decided to ignore it. I had bigger problems to worry about now.

"Lutz you bastard, blindfold her!" The driver spoke up, as we made eye contact in the rear-view mirror. "Why is she not blindfolded!"

"I forgot, calm down Lovino." Lutz grumbled back, producing a black cloth from his back pocket and motioning for me to lean towards him.

I figured if I didn't struggle this would be easier on all of us, so I leaned forward as he tied the cloth around my eyes gently. I was surprised at how delicate he was being with me, even more so when his hand lingered on my face to brush a stray brown strand of hair out of the way. "You're in good hands frau." He whispered, gently patting my cheek.

I quickly leaned back in my seat knowing the pink in my cheeks was darkening.

" _Potato bastard…"_ Lovino mumbled, taking the car down the familiar route he knew to be the way home.

* * *

 _Please leave a review, and thanks for reading!_


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